


Room Nine

by MapleLeafSquareRoot



Series: The Room(s) Where It Happened [12]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: A little bit of angst, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Post 4.13 Merry Christmas Johnny Rose, Sex Motel Series, Sherwood Motel, a whole lot of tenderness, first time barebacking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:42:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22964083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapleLeafSquareRoot/pseuds/MapleLeafSquareRoot
Summary: This is an instalment in the Sex Motel series, set immediately following 4.13 - Merry Christmas, Johnny Rose.A few days off, and a scheduled vendor pick-up, give David and Patrick some time to *connect* at the Sherwood Motel.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: The Room(s) Where It Happened [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1644181
Comments: 23
Kudos: 197





	Room Nine

Closure dates for the Rose Apothecary had been negotiated long before Patrick had taken David out for his birthday. Long before the justification for a day off included precious time spent alone, exploring each others’ bodies, limbs tangled up in sheets, sharing secrets and tracing fingertip patterns up and down goosebump-pebbled skin. At the time, Patrick had been solely focused on what was best for business, and that included being open on what was arguably Canada’s Black Friday - Boxing Day. David, on the other hand, had been unwilling to compromise his brand integrity, insisting that Boxing Day not be feted, promoted, or otherwise acknowledged by such a small-scale, independent business. To do so would be patently incorrect, and contrary to the central mission of the store to support local artisans. Leave Boxing Day to the Best Buys, Canadian Tires and Mark’s Work Warehouses of the world. 

Now, sailing down the highway having visited Hyram “Hy” Price, so named by Hebraic parents with a sense of humour, and his wife, Lois, clearly a match made by some deity with a sense of humour, Patrick was grateful that he had eventually acquiesced to David’s demand of remaining closed until December 28th. Hy and Lois Price, despite their pedestrian sounding names, produced exceptional artisanal lube, a product that had gained traction during, and maintained the momentum following, Singles’ Week. Their Christmas offering “ _All I want for Christmas is lube_ ” had sold out at Rose Apothecary on Christmas Eve, necessitating a pick-up run on Boxing Day, and conveniently presenting an opportunity for a one-night stop at the Sherwood Motel en route. 

Unsurprisingly, the parking lot was relatively empty. Patrick put the car in park, and reached over to gently jostle David awake. “That’s my banana!” he exclaimed groggily, slowly coming to realize his surroundings. Patrick watched him struggle into consciousness, simultaneously curious about the banana, and entertained by David’s antics. Leaving him to scrub the sleep from his face, and pat his hair back into submission, Patrick went to check in. A few moments later, he returned to the car, dangling the key to room nine, with a glint in his eye. 

“We scored the Geddes/Warhol fusion room,” he said with a smirk, referring to the tacky art that hung above the beds of the Sherwood. “Room Nine.”

With a grimace, David followed Patrick to the door. 

***

David dropped his bag on the wingback chair, arranged dangerously close to impeding egress from room nine. Stepping into the room, he allowed his eyes to adjust to the low light before moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “Uh oh,” he said, with a smirk and a shimmy of his shoulders, “there’s only one bed!” Patrick laughed, letting his shoulder bag slip off and onto the bed. Sure enough, a garish triptych of sleeping infants in carved out gourds hung above the sole queen bed, the colours clashing with the paisley bedspread. He sat down on the edge, kicked off his boots, and scooted back to sit against the headboard. David disappeared into the bathroom to freshen up. 

When he came out, Patrick had turned on the television and had found a rerun of _Let’s Make a Deal_. David sauntered over to the bed, removed the remote from Patrick’s hand, and cast a glance at Wayne Brady on the screen before turning the television off. “Oh, I’ll give you a chance at the  _ big deal _ ,” he said suggestively, eyebrows making clear his intent. Patrick pulled David in towards him, smiling into a kiss that quickly turned filthy and searching. 

Twenty minutes, innumerable kisses, and three fingers later, with his hands dangerously slick with lube, Patrick used his teeth to rip open the foil package. “Last one in the box,” he commented. “We can stop in Elmdale on the way home tomorrow to restock.” Successfully removing the condom, he carefully placed it over the tip of his cock, ready to roll it down. David watched, eyes hungry, his body ready, his back arching in anticipation. He continued to watch, as a poorly timed hamstring cramp, and a reflexive reaction to grab the spasming muscle with his right hand caused Patrick to release his hold on the condom, and it fell to the 1980s mottled carpet below. 

“ **FUCK!** ” he exclaimed. 

David sat up, surveying the scene for damage. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sorry sight of the limp latex noodle on the ground. Patrick, on the other hand, looked less than impressed.

“Well, David. I guess that’s the end of that idea. How do you want to finish instead?”

David pursed his lips. He considered all the ways that Patrick liked to take him apart, and slowly put him back together. He also considered the words that had been floating in his mind for some time now. _I love you. I trust you. You’re safe with me. I know I’m safe with you_. And that all of those words had coalesced into the handle, the head, and the face of a sledgehammer capable of bringing down all the walls David had constructed to keep himself safe, including his steadfast insistence on the use of condoms for penetrative sex. 

“We could...go without…,” he started cautiously, peering up at Patrick through his long eyelashes. Patrick’s expression softened from the frustration of only moments before. David’s heart hammered in his chest, as he gathered up the courage to bare his soul to Patrick. His mind, and his mouth, however, had a different plan and before he could stop it the words came tumbling out.

“Consider it part of your Christmas present.”

Patrick froze. He slowly removed his hand from David’s knee, necessitating a shift backwards as to regain his balance on the bed. His eyes refused to make contact with David’s. He backed up slowly, until he could maneuver himself up against the headboard, tucked into an upright ball, feet covered by the blankets. 

David also froze. Caught between the intimacy and the awkwardness of the moment. He took a deep breath and looked to where Patrick had shifted.

He looked so vulnerable. Naked, knees drawn up and hugged to his chest, back flat against the headboard, eyes downcast. David sat perpendicular to him on the bed, legs crossed, blanket pulled over his lap. He reached out, drawing Patrick’s left hand into his own, tracing soothing circles into Patrick’s palm with his  thumb. 

“Rachel…” Patrick finally whispered.

David could tell that Patrick was starting to spiral. “Hey,” he said softly, pulling Patrick towards him, hoping his face wasn’t betraying his efforts to conceal the gnaw of anxiety and the weight of the boulder that had come to rest in his stomach. 

Patrick took a deep breath, and David felt a fraction of the tension in Patrick’s body release. He scratched lightly at the short hair at the nape of Patrick’s neck, and pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Every Christmas, Valentine’s, Birthday, _even goddamn Easter_!” Patrick continued on a wavering exhale.

“For half my life, every special occasion has been overshadowed by expectation of some...grand gesture...as if a promise, or a commitment, was a gift.” 

Clearing his throat, voice less shaky, he gestured between them. “This. _This is not a gif_ t, David. The trust we built. **_Re-built_**. It’s not a gift.”

David knew that he had been too flippant, that the walls he had built up were constructed of the most flimsy of material when push came to shove and prioritizing someone else’s pleasure over his own safety and self-interest was sure to guarantee an hour, an evening, a moment of escape and eventual release. He saw it now, though removed from himself. Rather than feeling the familiar seep of shame into his bones, he felt a deep ache of sympathy for his past self, who could not fathom the sense of security that came from being well and truly loved by someone like Patrick. Or, specifically, Patrick. Tears pricked at his eyes, and he blinked them back unsuccessfully as he tipped Patrick’s chin up, seeking the soft and reassuring press of lips. 

Withdrawing slightly from Patrick’s warmth, David issued a soft “I’m sorry,” hoping those two words conveyed his repentance both for having ruined the moment, and having acted so casually about such a significant milestone in their relationship. Patrick just nodded, shuffling down until he was lying on the bed, tugging until David was curled into his side, with his head on Patrick’s chest. David consciously pushed all thoughts out of his mind as Patrick carded softly through his hair, and soon there was darkness.

***

By the time David awoke, the only light cast into the room was from the pale yellow streetlamp outside. Shifting carefully as to not wake Patrick, he slid out of bed and into the bathroom, grabbing his phone from the sideboard as he passed by. Nearly 11 pm. Late enough to be an excuse to ignore Alexis’ and Stevie’s drunken texts from an evening spent with Johnny and Moira. He responded to a couple of holiday greetings from vendors, splashed water on his face, and headed back into the room to return to bed. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” Patrick greeted him softly, as to not startle. He sat up in bed, holding the covers up as David crawled back under, arranging himself once again with his head on Patrick’s chest, tipping his chin up to meet Patrick’s lips with a soft kiss. “Hi,” he replied.

For several long moments, they lay there in silence, just listening to each other breathe. Mindlessly, Patrick’s left hand began tracing patterns up David’s arm, and David responded by mapping Patrick’s chest with his own. He felt Patrick’s heart quicken, and turned to start mouthing kisses over Patrick’s collarbone, up his neck, along his jawline, finally settling on the sensitive spot behind his ear. He delicately pressed his lips to his favourite cluster of freckles, the freckles he had claimed as his own - a symbol of how well he knew Patrick and his way of reminding himself that nothing, no matter how small, was insignificant. Patrick knew that when David paid close attention to the small cluster of freckles behind his left ear when he was feeling particularly affectionate, possessive, or protective, and David intensified his attention on the area as Patrick’s breaths became punctuated with small gasps. 

“ _Let’s try this again_ ,” David purred in Patrick’s ear. “ _Let me make you feel good._ ”

Patrick’s hips rolled instinctively towards David, seeking friction. David met him halfway, grinding his clothed erection against Patrick’s naked body. Patrick let out a low moan, sitting up slightly, drawing David closer, taking David’s bottom lip and worrying it lightly between his teeth. David gently pushed Patrick back down on the bed, pressing kisses behind his ear, and trailing down his neck. David’s hands trailed only slightly behind his mouth, as he tracked down Patrick’s body, stopping only once he reached Patrick’s hard cock, jutting proudly and demanding. 

Patrick kept pushing back against David’s fingers, insistent for more, harder, faster, an angle upward and slightly to the right. David gave him what he wanted, fisting Patrick’s cock while he worked his fingers inside. He felt the tension in Patrick’s abdomen increase, and heard his breathing become erratic and gasping, a sure sign that Patrick was close to coming. He braced himself for the wild, bucking ride of Patrick’s orgasm, increasing his grip, rhythm and intensity. 

Instead, Patrick reached out, stilling David’s hands. Pulling a very confused David up to meet him, face to face, Patrick kissed David tenderly, barely managing a soft “yes, let’s try this again. I want you to fuck me. _Bare._ ”

This time, David’s heart beat his self-sabotaging mind and mouth to the punch. 

“ _I love you_ ,” he whispered, “ _I trust you_.” David’s voice cracked, as he finished how he should have hours ago. “ _You’re safe with me. I know I’m safe with you_.”

Patrick cupped David’s face, kissing him soundly, as he handed over the travel-sized bottle of _Lube Me Tender_. David applied a generous amount to his throbbing erection, and lined himself up with Patrick’s hole. Patrick hooked just feet behind David’s back, using his strong legs to draw David towards him. David pressed forward against the resistance of flesh on flesh, unable to hold back a long, low groan. For all his sexual (mis)adventures and poor choices, David had never put himself willingly at risk by engaging in unprotected sex, so the physical sensation of entering Patrick bare was new and completely mind-blowing. Every nerve ending was lit up, and between the increased friction and the heightened emotion of the evening, David feared he wouldn’t last long at all. He slowed his drag out of Patrick’s tight heat, pausing with just the tip of his cock breaching Patrick’s entrance. He took a deep, steadying breath, and reached down to intertwine the fingers of his left hand with Patrick’s right, whispering “ _I love you_ ” before pushing back in to Patrick. Patrick’s “ _so, so much_ ” in response came out in choked, interrupted syllables, as his hips canted up towards David, chasing the alternating pressure and release of David’s thrusts. 

David maintained a steady rhythm of pushing in and pulling out just enough for Patrick to arch his back in response, seeking the satisfaction of the sensation of fullness. Patrick could tell David was close - the tell-tale furrow of his brow, and shudder rumbling through his thighs - but David wanted to hold on longer - memorizing every ripple of Patrick’s body on his cock, so he repeatedly chose to slow his movements down, inhaling deeply, before resuming his thrusts. Each time David brought himself to the edge only served to build the tension in both their bodies, and it wasn’t long before Patrick had to reach a hand around his own aching erection. A couple quick pulls, and David’s relentless driving against his prostate and Patrick was powerless against the force of the orgasm ripping through his body. He grasped David’s shoulders, pulling him down against his chest, as David finally let go and allowed himself release. 

“Wow,” breathed Patrick, eyes glassy, dazed expression on his face.

“Yeah,” was all David could muster in return, lips twisting to the side in his signature smirk.

Slowly, David slid out of Patrick. Sitting back on his heels, he traced a finger down Patrick’s perineum, sliding it across his hole, slick and shiny with David’s come. Still sensitive, Patrick twitched at David’s touch, his ass clenching at air, forcing David’s come out. “ _Fuck_ , that’s hot,” David let out on an exhale. Patrick chuckled, his cheeks pinking slightly under David’s focused attention. 

Carefully, Patrick maneuvered himself to the edge of the bed, and teetered his way gingerly to the bathroom. Pausing only long enough to enjoy the sight of Patrick’s posterior, David followed, brushing his teeth while Patrick adjusted the taps for a hot shower. Toiletries in hand, Patrick opened the floral shower curtain, stepped in, and held the curtain open for David. With a grin, David stepped into the shower, immediately reaching out and rubbing his hands up and down Patrick’s flank, grateful for the return of skin to skin contact as he was still feeling a little wrung out from the day. 

Wordlessly, Patrick turned around, passing the shampoo to David, who in turn squeezed a nickel-sized amount onto the palm of his hand, rubbed his hands together, and began running his fingers through Patrick’s hair. Patrick hummed contentedly as David worked up a lather. 

“So what made you change your mind?” David asked softly.

“I’m sorry?” Patrick said, turning to face David.

Hands on Patrick’s shoulders, David gently pushed him back under the spray, tilting his head back to remove the shampoo. A little clearer, he repeated his question. “What made you change your mind? About the condom?” He watched Patrick’s face for any reaction, anticipating a grimace, or, bare minimum, a frown, as he lowered his chin to face David. But when Patrick’s eyes re-opened, there was nothing but love written across his face. Handing the conditioner to David, and turning back around, he shrugged. “I think I was wrong.”

“Um, ok?” David replied cautiously, carefully conditioning Patrick’s short locks.

“I meant what I said, David. Trust isn’t a gift.” Patrick turned back around, tipping his head back and rinsing off the conditioner. He handed the washcloth and body wash to David expectantly. 

“But dammit, David, every goddamn day with you is. And I’m tired of the lingering shadows of the expectations and obligations of my past. I love you. I trust you. I’m all in.” Patrick leaned forward, capturing David’s lips in a soft kiss. Pulling back slightly, lips still ghosting Patrick’s, David whispered “I love you, too. All in.”

Ever tender, Patrick replied “I know, David,” as he turned and shut the water off. “It’s been a long day, let’s get some sleep.” David stepped out of the shower and started towelling himself off, in preparation for his nightly skin-care routine. 

Grabbing a towel, and heading back into the bedroom, Patrick looked over his shoulder at David, the tenderness in his eyes having turned to fire. “Come on, David. You need your rest. It’s my turn in the morning.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
